


Colors of Peace And Healing

by Schnubbel166



Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 05:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20541236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schnubbel166/pseuds/Schnubbel166
Summary: Most days, are good days...





	Colors of Peace And Healing

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)  
I decided to write the continuation to my story "The Wrong Color". While it is a lot lighter than its prequel, it still isn't just happy, but there definitely is hope there. Just a heads up for you. The story over all deals with the main characters dealing with loss.  
Those were just some things I had to say.  
But now, I really hope you enjoy the read and don't hesitate to leave feedback :)

Most days are good days. We have been married for three years now and the war has ended a month ago. My heart aches, when I think about the feeling of loss a whole nation, so many nations, felt then. It was not as glorious, as we all hoped it would be. Even though the whole country celebrated, many of us had been wiped off the earth and ripped out of our all lives.

I look out of the window and watch him paint our fence white. The sun is beaming down on him, encouraging to smile, but his face is set in a stoic frown. Weather from being blinded, or because of pain, I don’t know. He looks up and wipes sweat off of his forehead.

There is no need for him to paint the fence. We could easily afford someone to do it. But he is humble. So so humble. I started working as a nurse, one and a half years ago. When our country was in dire need of help. It felt good, to finally help, at least a little.

He looks up to the window and a soft smile starts to graze his face. The shadow of the boy he once had been flickering through. I smile at him and wave my hand. He raises his own, to return the gesture and gets back to work.

I decide to abandon the windowsill I had been crouched upon and wander into the living room. The farmhouse, we moved into, is still and silent. It smells faintly of flowers and cinnamon. I force myself to not think about _‘him’ _or _it_. The dress. Phantom pain, that is, what the pain feels like, that inhabits my soul, my whole being and makes me numb sometimes. ‘He’ feels like a limb, lost and irreplaceable.

Whenever I feel like this, I feel guilty. Because of the farmhouse and the beautiful white fence, because I still love ‘him’, while being married to his best friend. Because I think, that I am ungrateful for all the things he has already done for me.

The front door opens, and he walks into the room, supported by the cane he is carrying. When he approaches me, the smile on his face softens some more and he embraces me tightly. Presses me to his heart. I return his embrace and circle my arms around his back. Clenching his shirt in my grasp.

I love him. I really, really do. He is my best friend and supports me unconditionally. And I do not deserve him.

When my tongue slips and I tell him so, he frowns at me. His hands wander to my face, grasping my cheeks gently. “My dear darling. Do you really think so poorly of yourself?” He asks. My gaze lowers to the wooden floorboards. “I don’t think you realize what you mean to me. You saved me, when I couldn’t do it myself and ground me when I am about to float away. I’ve never been a man of big words, like ‘he’ was, and I don’t loathe you for not stop loving him. Healing is a long process and I myself struggle with it, but together, we can manage to uncoil this… chaos inside of our minds. And perhaps, we will heal eventually, when we let ourselves do so.”

His dark eyes are searching mine. “I will never push you behind boundaries and if you still need time to think, I will gladly give you that time, and if that means I won’t ever get closer to you than I am now, I am going to accept that. Because I’m happy with you. No matter how.”

My heart races inside my chest. His sincere gaze clouded by sadness and anger and love and so many feelings, unsettled and unclear. “For a man, who says he is not good with words, you just said a spectacular amount of beautiful words, with a very big meaning,” I say quietly and touch his face softly. “Thank you.”

He smiles, a sunny smile. One, I haven’t seen in years. A boyish smile, a little flustered and it pains me. Even though, I cannot explain why.

“I will wait for you, love.”

We embrace again and it is indeed grounding. For a while we stand there in our entrance hall and hold each other tight. Then we part and I feel lighter.

With newfound glee, a glee I hope will settle, I point at his stubbled cheek. “You should consider cleaning up. There is some white on your cheek.” A moment later, I actually find myself laughing. Giddy, like I have not heard myself in a while and he stares at me dumbfounded. Before a grin splits his face and he begins to chase me around the house to tickle me.

“We are too old for this,” I exclaim, and he laughs warmly, a sound located deep in his chest and maybe, maybe I need to feel this pain. I need to feel it, to be able to heal, to love him, like he loves me.

“Oh, you are just trying to get away,” He laughs and keeps chasing me.

It feels normal. Not like a façade for once. Not like an act, we both have to keep up for each other’s sake. We are happy, for now, I think. I dearly, dearly hope it lasts. I hope we can heal.

Most days are good days. And today, is definitely a good one.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3


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